


Paradise

by neptune_scar



Category: DBSK|Tohoshinki|TVXQ, JYJ - Fandom
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, One Shot, Post-lawsuit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-24
Updated: 2013-11-24
Packaged: 2018-01-02 12:41:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1056879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neptune_scar/pseuds/neptune_scar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yunho had called the both of them “fire and water” once – and Jaejoong believes that to be undoubtedly true.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paradise

**Author's Note:**

> A retelling of the events surrounding Jaejoong's emotional performance of "Paradise" on 13/11/02 in Seoul. I took a six-year long hiatus from the fandom, but Jaejoong's new album thrust me back into it again (isn't his album amazing?!). Please excuse my lack of knowledge regarding recent events; I tried to be as accurate as possible, but for the sake of the story, I altered/took some creative liberty with some things. Thanks for your understanding, and I hope you enjoy it!

The calendar on his phone tells him that it's been three years. The details don't necessarily matter to Kim Jaejoong. Whether it had truly been the full thirty-six months, or if it was approaching the fortieth – it didn't matter. Because in the end, the half-drunk bottle of vodka would always tell him that it had been too long.

His surroundings did little to comfort him on the fact, either. The frenzied atmosphere of the otherworld, known as the backstage, bustled around him while he sat on a secluded couch, away from it all, in one of the dressing rooms. It was a plush little room, with Jaejoong’s coveted bottle of vodka taking its place atop an adjacent vanity table. Tonight, he would be performing in his native Seoul as part of his highly anticipated 1st Asia Tour. Fans were curious to see this new, but familiar, self-professed rock god in his element, and Jaejoong lived for the thrill of his music. The tension surrounding him might have been high, but tucked away in this room, Jaejoong found that he was unfazed by the chaos occurring just outside of the door. It was not his main focus, for his attention remained, solely, on his phone in his right hand. He held it with a firm grip.

It had been three years since he had seen Jung Yunho. For years prior, the other man had been a solid presence in his life, a support on which to fall back on. At first, they were bandmates, teammates working for a common goal. Jaejoong didn’t mean to fall for Yunho, and Yunho was at the dear mercy of those big brown eyes. Like a whirlwind, the two were swept away in one another. Whatever this thing was, it consumed them – and it was much stronger than anything they could have ever prepared for. Truthfully, it frightened them at times, and it was during those instances that they would attempt to back away from each other and breathe. Of course, those periods never lasted long, and when they would eventually get back together, some magnetizing force made certain to keep it that way. It took hold of them, and it would not let go.

But it had been three years since they had been separated, torn apart by ink and sheets of dignified paper. They hadn't done so much as spoken to one another since then, and this was troubling to Jaejoong. Every attempt that he had made to reach out to the other male was shunted, and he did not understand why. His phone calls were left unreturned, and his messages received no reply - yet not once did that deter him. Perhaps it should have. If it didn't hurt so much, Jaejoong would find the whole thing rather silly. It was, really, when he thought about it. The whole idea was laughable – but yet, here he was, about to take the stage, and Yunho was nowhere in sight.

The phantom itched against his skin, continually drawing his attention to the void that lingered about him. Jaejoong tried just about everything to fill it. But no drink could drown it out; no amount of smoke could cloud it over; and no other man or woman's skin could suffice. He had even resorted to relying on the hands of time to clear it away, but to no avail. It was in those desperate times that he, strangely enough, envied Yunho.

The separation had been difficult for all of them, but Yunho seemed to stride through it with composure and grace – those were qualities that Jaejoong admired in him, immensely. Yunho was a valiant statue, stone and armour; but Jaejoong was a thunderous sky, poised on the verge of a torrential downpour. Yunho had called the both of them "fire and water" once, and Jaejoong believes that to be undoubtedly true.

“Jaejoong ah!”

The blond musician looked up at the mention of his name as a handler burst into the dressing room in a flurry of energy and importance. Twisted cords and microphones were hanging off of his every limb, and in a rush of breath, the handler informed him that “It’s time to get to the stage – you’re up in ten minutes!”

Jaejoong put on a dazzling smile, a playful glint lighting his amber-hued eyes. “Sure thing! I'll come out in a minute.”

The busied man gave a quick nod to Jaejoong before shouting something into one of his attached microphones, almost tripping over his feet as he sped out of the room.

The singer’s eyes lingered for a moment at the spot where the handler once stood, now empty, before falling back down to his lap. He quickly thumbed across the screen of his phone to create an SMS message:  _"Going on stage. I wish you could see it. I love you."_  He then dialled in Yunho's number and pressed the send button before placing the phone atop the vanity table and exiting the room.

**

Yunho felt the telltale buzzing of his phone in the pocket of his hooded jacket. He didn’t even have to guess – he knows it’s from Jaejoong. The streetlights shone overhead, each one shining brilliantly as they passed. He was seated opposite his bandmate, Shim Changmin, in one of SM Entertainment’s company vehicles; the two were being driven to an impromptu meeting at one of the offices to discuss a sudden, last-minute, but critical change to their schedule. This wasn’t something that could simply be discussed in an email, or so they were told. And now, the two bandmates found themselves being transported across the city to meet with a few members of their team.

The older male reached into his pocket to retrieve his phone – and Changmin immediately took notice of Yunho’s change in demeanour. As his eyes roved across the screen, they began to take on a slightly vacant quality, and his mouth – which would readily break into a charismatic smile – straightened itself out in a sombre line. Changmin recognized this look, and he knew exactly who had messaged Yunho.

“Is it Jaejoong hyung?” He asked, tentatively.

Yunho didn’t look up, only nodding his answer in return.

Changmin, too, nodded his head and stayed quiet in a respectful silence. He knew how difficult this ordeal had been for Yunho, and throughout it, the older man had kept a calm, collected facade. But it had been three years, and the cracks were starting to show. Changmin, more than anyone, knew how much Yunho still loved Jaejoong and how dearly he missed his lover. The two had been practically inseparable, but now, it was as if a knife had cut them apart - and Yunho believed that it was Jaejoong himself that had wielded the weapon. Whether or not that was entirely true did little to dull the pain. It was a premature incision, and Yunho was left with a deep, hardened scar. He did well to cover it up, though, but Changmin wondered just how long his friend would be able to keep it together.

Yunho fiddled around with his phone for a few seconds, typing and re-typing the phrase,  _"Good luck tonight! I love you too,"_ over and over. But with a frustrated sigh, his finger pushed the delete button, and he sat back, tensely, in his seat.

**

The stadium was dark and peppered with red glowsticks. The rising wave of fan cheers rang throughout the air, and Jaejoong was taken aback for a moment as the sound washed over him. With his microphone in hand, he turned around and began to saunter up the stage towards the vibrant glowing cage that stood erect and magnificent in the centre. He took a step inside and gripped one of the bars before spinning around to meet the adoring gazes and praises of his audience. His unzipped black leather jacket barely covered up his lean torso, giving their eyes a clear view of the tattoo running down his abdomen. He slowly brought the microphone to his lips, ready to serenade the stadium with “Paradise.” It was an emotional ballad that was very dear to him, one that spoke of love and loss, and the audience waited on bated breath for the singer to start.

Not wanting to keep them waiting, he opened his mouth, readying the words on his tongue. He began to sing – but the first few lyrics of "Paradise" had barely left him when, at that moment, those thunderclouds parted, and the first spark of lightning shot through.

Every note after that was a struggle, each one becoming breathier and more strained than the last. With every "I love you", he felt his chest tighten and the burning in the back of his throat begin to intensify. A deafening ringing vibrated through his ears, screaming like an alarm, as teardrops began filling his eyes, causing his vision to steadily blur.

The backing track continued to play on around him, but it was all too much for his body to bear. A force mightier than gravity was weighing down upon him, and he was utterly helpless to it. With a shattered sigh, he leaned heavily against the bars of the cage, his head lowered, and once powerful voice, dispirited.

The rain began to fall. It felt more like a storm to Jaejoong, as the water pelted him with a vengeance. The audience began to look on, worriedly – what could have made their lovely Jaejoong wilt in such a way?

But Jaejoong paid them no mind; they were so very far away, and he was so very, very broken. He squeezed his eyes shut, a frantic plea to the thunderclouds – he just wanted the rain to stop. “I miss you,” he whispered.

**

The table was far too large for the five of them. However, only two were currently seated at the table. Yunho and Changmin had arrived at the meeting room and were waiting for the other team members to join them and fill the unoccupied seats. The night janitors were set about cleaning each of the rooms in the building, but passed over this one, careful not to interrupt the meeting. Changmin, on the other hand, couldn't wait to get it over with.

“I’m hungry,” he whined.

Yunho rolled his eyes; that was the eighth time in fifteen minutes that Changmin had complained of hunger. “You’re always hungry, Changmin.”

The younger boy chose to ignore Yunho’s remark, continuing on with “I don't know why these guys are taking so long. I mean, they called us out here, and they're gonna make us wait for, like...” He brought his phone out of his jacket pocket to check the time, and his eyes widened upon realizing what time it was. “30 minutes!” He exclaimed before facing Yunho again. “We've been sitting here for 30 minutes, hyung! If I knew this was gonna happen, then I wouldn't have even agreed to this.”

The older man simply shrugged. “There’s no point in complaining about it now,” he stated, as he grabbed his phone from his pocket and began poking at it, absently. “Might as well keep yourself entertained. How far are you in Toffee Tackle?”

Changmin responded with the most sinister glare that he could muster. “Don't even mention that game. I'm done with it. I can't deal with it anymore.”

Yunho laughed, still glancing through his phone. “Finally given up?”

“I'm in rehab – I haven't touched it in a week,” Changmin explained. He took a short pause, however, before speaking again. “But I'm not deleting it, though. Not yet.”

“What are you waiting for?” Yunho asked, his eyes still roving across his screen.

“Nothing,” Changmin shrugged. “It's just nice knowing it's there.”

To that, Yunho let out another laugh. “You sound like an addict.”

“Well, I said I was in rehab.”

“Yep”, Yunho replied in agreement. He wasn’t sure how it happened, but he found himself, once again, browsing through a Jaejoong-themed netizen cafe. This tended to happen more often than he would admit, and soon enough, it had somehow crept into his daily routine: he would check his SMS messages, check his email, search up the latest news, and type the name  _Kim Jaejoong_ into his search bar. Jaejoong had messaged him earlier that night, as he did every night, telling him of his upcoming concert in Seoul. Yunho was anxious to see if any attendees had uploaded a fancam video of the event; Jaejoong was quite the performer.

Luckily, he had spotted a recently uploaded fancam through a forum listing, and he perked up in interest. But after reading the title and description, that excitement was very quickly smothered with a gnawing feeling of worry. He narrowed his eyes upon reading the words, "Jaejoong oppa please don't cry! Be strong! TT"

Curious, and a bit alarmed, he clicked on the link, holding his breath. He didn't turn his phone’s sound on – and he didn't have to. He had seen enough. The quality was quite good for a fancam – too good, in fact – and Yunho could clearly see Jaejoong, dressed in his rock star regalia, leaned against some sort of cage-like contraption, with his head lowered. He then looked up, shaking his blond hair from his face, and the camera's zoom-in revealed the tears that lined his reddened eyes – and right then and there, Yunho snapped.

He bolted out of his seat, much to the shock of his oblivious bandmate, who had been engrossed in a round of Toffee Tackle.

“What the hell – what’s going on?” Changmin looked up at Yunho with a disturbed frown on his face.

Yunho seemed incredibly distracted, and he spoke quickly to Changmin, saying “I have to go,” as he stuffed his phone in his jacket pocket.

Changmin, on the other hand, was flabbergasted. “Go?” He repeated, incredulously, as Yunho hurried towards the door. “What do you mean 'go'? You can't just leave! What if they—”

But Yunho was already at the door. “Don't worry – I'll take the blame for everything!” The older male assured him. “There's just something I need to deal with right now – it's kind of an emergency. But it'll be okay – I'll see you later, 'min!” And with that, he disappeared from the doorway, leaving his perplexed bandmate behind.

**

His legs couldn't carry him fast enough, but he wasn't about to sprint through the streets to his destination – that would attract far too much attention. He was taking a huge risk as it was, and he didn't need anything to compound it further.

He pulled the hood of his jacket tighter over his head, making sure to keep his eyes low, so as not to be seen. Taxicabs were plentiful in this area, and Yunho wasted no time in hailing one down and climbing in.

He was headed straight to the wolves' den – and he knew this. He understood the risks and dangers of what he was doing, but he would fight the wolves with his bare hands, if he had to. And he would win. The dangers and grudges seemed trivial now, for he was focused and determined, driven by a feeling that he knew all too well.

Jaejoong needed him. That beautiful man – his lover, his world, his absolute and utter everything – needed him, and Yunho was going to be there. This had gone on for too long, and Yunho was weary and tired of it all. He thinks back to that fancam video and remembers that look of pain, that twisted look of torment that sullied Jaejoong's delicate features, and it filled him with a prickling sense of vigour. Never again did he want to see him cry.

About forty minutes later, he arrived at the fabled apartment building, the one that he had only ever seen as a written address on a lit screen. It was one of those high-tech luxury buildings, the ones that housed the wealthier class, shielding them from the impurity of the common folk. Yunho never understood why Jaejoong would choose to live in such an environment, but he remembered reading a comment in which the blond alluded to the building's "hot tub from heaven", which made it worth having to deal with the snobs parading about.

He stood there, taking in the image of the steel and glass castle against the sky, both terrified and with temper flaring. To be honest, he had only half-thought this plan through, assuming, of course, that Jaejoong would have been home. But he had to take this chance – he wasn't sure if he would get another one like this again. Deciding firmly upon it, he took a careful glance around to be sure that he hadn’t been followed. The last thing that he needed was some bored netizen or journalist to start uproar.

Summoning up every ounce of courage within him, he took a cautious, heavy footstep towards the premises. He took another and then another until his feet broke out into a measured run for the large front doors. Once he got there, he opened them up, stepped into the crystalline foyer, and was immediately met with a highly sophisticated buzzer system. He cursed under his breath because, of course, he didn't know the buzzer code for Jaejoong's apartment. He let out an agitated grumble and was just about to turn around and concede defeat when the elevator doors inside the lobby opened up and a tenant walked out.

It was a graceful middle-aged woman, covered in a luxurious mink coat, her high heels tapping pompously against the marble flooring, and black hair tied back in a sleek bun. She spotted Yunho hovering by the thick glass door, and after taking in the sight of his drawn up hooded jacket and ripped jeans, her rouge-tainted lips tightened in an uncomfortable grin. She hesitantly made her way towards the front doors, as she was initially on her way out, and opened them up – to an incredibly grateful Yunho. “Thank you, ahjumma!” He smiled his brilliant smile at the reserved woman. “I, uh... I forgot my key.”

She looked at him, generally unimpressed, before answering with a haughty “Of course.” She pursed her lips together in her tight grin and continued on her way, as Yunho headed through the doors.

He removed his hood and wasted no time in heading to the elevator – and couldn't believe his luck when it opened up on the first try. Fortunately, Jaejoong had messaged him the apartment number ( _"If you ever need me Yunho yah, you know where to find me"_ ), so he rushed through the doors, jammed the button to the fourteenth floor, and waited patiently for the elevator take him up – or, rather, as patient as he was capable of being.

The  _ding!_  of the elevator signalled his arrival to the fourteenth floor, and aided by the signs, Yunho hurried in the direction towards apartment 1405. He could feel his heart rate quicken with each passing footstep, and at one point, he thought he would have passed out from the sheer anticipation of it all. It coiled around deep in his belly, and he could feel his palms start to tingle with a cold sweat.

**

Before long, he found himself standing outside the grand wooden door of 1405 – and before he even had the chance to talk himself out of it, he knocked twice. A heavy, shattered sigh left his lips, and he found that he was unable to control the jitters in his right leg. His heart nearly stopped when he heard movement on the other side of the door, and in a matter of moments, it swung open – and the colour drained from his face.

Yunho wasn’t sure if he believed in ghosts, but if he had ever seen one with his own eyes, he was convinced that this is what it would have felt like. His mouth went dry, and for a moment, he wondered if the light was playing tricks on his eyes because standing there, less than a foot in front of him, was Jaejoong – genuine, solid flesh, tangible, exquisite Jaejoong. Time had managed to keep them apart, but in that very second, it was as if those three long years had vanished, completely. Yunho was breathless as he stood in front of the shorter male, this golden apparition, that had once seemingly lived in his pocket.

Jaejoong stood there in nothing but a fitted pair of black jeans, and Yunho could see that his eyes were puffy, reddened with emotion. The ebony that Yunho so fondly remembered was gone, and in its place was a foreign shade of amber. His blond hair – normally coiffed with style and perfection – was dishevelled, honey-coloured wisps falling carelessly about his face. It must have taken a few moments for Jaejoong’s mind to register what he was seeing, for as soon as he did, the arm that held the doorknob began to tremble. His breathing hitched, and his thin chest started to rise and fall at a rapid pace, tattoos stretching out daringly across his pale skin. The blond-haired man stared back at Yunho, his amber eyes a kaleidoscope of emotion – darting from confusion to elation to anger to grief – before he uttered “Yunho yah...?”

And that was all it took for Yunho to close the space between them and reclaim those lips that were once a faraway dream. Both men stumbled into the apartment, drunk and heady from it all – and Yunho doesn't remember when he had reached behind him to shut the door, but he recalls hearing a loud thud as it closed, blocking the two of them from the rest of the world. Their movements increased with vigour, seeming almost desperate to make up for lost time. Hands fought for skin, lips crushed against lips, needing to touch and kiss and bite and lick everywhere; it was both too much and not enough.

Jaejoong cupped the sides of Yunho's face, holding him there firmly as they kissed, deep and hungry, both reliving and savouring the other – it had been too long. They ached for one another, sick and hurting with it, and Yunho's strong hands were practically kneading into his lover's sides, wanting more, always more. One of his hands felt its way up Jaejoong's smooth torso, stopping to rub at a pert nipple, while the other snaked down his backside, massaging the curve of his ass through his jeans. It felt electric, and the blond let out a needy moan, his breath muffled against the delicious warmth of Yunho's mouth. He pulled him in even closer to his body, fingertips losing themselves in the dark brown tresses of his lover's hair.

Jaejoong felt a tinge of sadness when Yunho's lips left his, already missing the slickness of the other man's tongue, until he felt warm kisses pulse along his jaw, moving down, descending greedily down the side of his neck. Jaejoong gasped and mewled as he felt Yunho's mouth sucking against his skin and groaned when he felt his teeth scrape, teasingly, towards his collarbone. Yunho could practically taste the sensual sounds coming from Jaejoong, and it was painfully arousing to the brunet male. The tightening in his jeans was becoming too much to ignore, and a low growl escaped Yunho as he made his way back to the blond's swollen lips, practically devouring them. He broke the kiss for only a second to discard his bothersome jacket and t-shirt before immediately covering Jaejoong's mouth with his, placing one last kiss before whispering “Bedroom.  _Now_.”

**

They made love slowly and thoroughly that night, taking the time to relish and ravish every inch of skin beneath their fingertips. Their bodies had found their rhythm, falling in sync somewhere between Yunho's clever touch and Jaejoong's wicked tongue. They moved with and against one another, the friction between their heated skin so perfect, so deliciously sweet.

They lay in Jaejoong's bed afterwards, tangled up with each other, awash in the glow of the city lights filtering in from the large paned window. They dared not leave even the slightest space between their bodies, having done too much of that in the past. In this moment, sated and content, all they longed for was the presence – the tangible, solid presence – of the other. They needed that more than anything. Jaejoong rested his head on Yunho's chest, fingertips tracing lazy patterns across the toned skin, telling himself over and over that this was not a dream. All the while, Yunho ran his fingers, gently, through the soft honey strands of Jaejoong's hair.

They stayed that way for quite a while, saying nothing, as they simply absorbed and breathed in the moment, an air of forgiveness hovering about the room. But time still continued to pass, as it so often does, and this revelation was unnerving to Jaejoong. Never would he have thought that this would happen again, that Yunho would come back to him – he didn’t dare let his mind wander to those thoughts. It was a forbidden area, and he always found himself drinking even more whenever he did. The sting of alcohol would burn his throat, punishing him, and then it would pass. It would always pass. Nothing ever truly stayed – and for that, he hated the passage of time. It was a cruel thing, for the same hands of time that allowed this very moment to happen would all too soon take it away, leaving him alone once more. He hated it. The longstanding silence in the room had finally broken after a forlorn "I miss you" seeped through his lips.

Yunho was somewhat startled by Jaejoong's admission, and he looked down at the other man, his heart feeling heavy in his chest. He couldn't help but feel a drudging sense of responsibility for all of this, and perhaps that this would have – should have – happened sooner? Now that the moment was here, it struck him as unfair. Maybe he was being selfish?

The brunet ran his fingers through Jaejoong’s silken hair one last time before tilting the other man’s chin up towards his face. Jaejoong looked up at him – and Yunho once again found himself at the mercy of those big, beautiful eyes. He studied each soft infraction of light that danced about them, growing fond of the amber hue. He then leaned down, capturing that perfect mouth in a bold, assuring kiss. He pulled back, but still within a ghost's whisper of Jaejoong's lips.

“I love you,” Yunho told him, sternly, his warm breath tickling the other male’s lips, causing them to quiver, slightly. He leaned back a little more, making sure to look Jaejoong directly in the eyes as he spoke. "And I have never stopped loving you – God knows I've tried. But this thing, it's..." He paused for a moment, searching the other man's face as he tried to find the words. "It's so much bigger than me. I didn't stand a chance." A tender smile warmed Yunho’s face, and he moved to press his lips to Jaejoong's forehead. "I don't blame you for anything," Yunho continued in a hushed tone. "I know this whole thing has been tough – and I hate it just as much, if not more, than you do. Don't you ever forget that," he stated in a low voice. "But what we've got is too strong to kill – and I promise you, I won't ever let it die. Do you understand?"

Jaejoong understood all too well, and he nodded, feeling tears pricking at his eyes. He closed them, as he took in Yunho's words.

"If you ever need me, Jaejoong ah, you just let me know. Please—" There was an audible crack in his voice just then, as he pleaded to Jaejoong. But as always, he covered it up and forced himself to stay strong.


End file.
